Regret
by hungergamesmockingjay
Summary: Annie Cresta has come to regret her life in the last three years. She has blocked out her family, and her best friend, Finnick, since he arrived back from the Hunger Games. When she is pulled at the reaping, everything she has done came back to bite her. She regrets it all, and plans to go home, and make it up to her famiy. She plans to win the 67th Hunger Games.


My life is, and always has been, swimming and spending time at the beach. The cold salt water of district four, splashing on your feet as you lay in the sand, what more could you ask for? That is my perfect place. That is where I wish to be. Not here, not on my way to the Capitol, put up for slaughter. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be with Finnick, or Mags, or even Tosh. I want to be home. I want to be in District 4, I want to feel the sun beating down on my cheeks, I want to feel the sand between my toes. I want to feel something besides grief, and the only place I could find that is miles away, in the opposite direction of where I'm going. Deep into the sunset, that's where I want to be. Not here.

It all started this morning. It was like every other reaping day, Mom and Dad ran the fish shop, my brother Rich and his wife and son stay close to my parents, helping, and I was gone. This was to be expected. I don't stick around the house much, I really don't, I spend most of my time outside, floating in the water, or laying on the sand. This particular morning, I was watching the sun rise slowly over the horizon, pinks and oranges filling the sky. I was in total bliss, my mind and my heart were at ease. I laid down, my head in my hands, and let my mind wander, who knows what the topic was.

The suddle footsteps behind me frustrated me. I wanted to be alone with the morning, not having to deal with another person on the beach. They creeped closer towards me, then stopped.

"Hey Annie." A man's voice said, I knew exactly who it was.

"Hello Finnick." I could feel his strong presence, he was right there, almost hovering above me. It made me feel weird, not in a good way, but in a creepy way.

Finnick and I were best friends since I can remember. We both loved the beach, and started meting each other there. He would wet down his hair bronze with salt water, then splash in the water with me, and talk, about everything. Then, when we were 14, exactly three years ago, he was reaped. His name was drawn from bowl, and he went to the Hunger Games.

I was shocked. I was scared. Most of all, I was sad. I went in to see him before the train left, in the small white room. He sat motionless on the tiny red couch and stared into space.

I don't remember what we said to each other, I suppose I should, but I do remember the look in his eyes. It was the most heartbreaking thing I've ever seen. That look, of fear, worry, and longing. At that moment, I didn't understand it at all. The feeling you get going to the Capitol. Of course now I do, but at the time, it was all new. It was different. My heart was broken watching him, tears swelling in his eyes. So I did the only thing I could think of. I kissed him.

\ He looked me in the eyes afterwards, and said something quickly. Words to this day I won't admit he said.

Because they were lies.

That moment was all I could think about this morning, on the beach. That moment when I though I lost him forever. In a way, I guess I did. He's a different person now, and I just have to learn to admit it, which is extremely hard, especially since he was my best friend. We were each other's. He was my Finnick, I was his Annie, friends forever. Or so we thought.

I stood up in frustration, running my hands through my long, curly brown hair. He was watching my every move, I could tell, I could feel his eyes, staring at me. I hated it. I just wanted to run, but instead I walked away, done with the beach, mostly Finnick.

I walked through the busy streets of district four. I cut through allies and back ways, until I was at my house, hidden by trees.

I opened the front door, and noticed my dark-haired mother sitting at the kitchen table, sewing. She looked concentrated, and almost glared at the fabric as she pricked her finger on the needle.

"Oh Annie!" She said when she noticed me. "I finished your reaping dress!" She held up the dress, the one I'm wearing now, green with flowers dotting the end of the skirt.

"It's wonderful Ma!" I said, holding the smooth fabric in my hand. "It's lovely."

Mother smiled, happy to see I liked it, which I truly did. "Remember the rules!"She said, fluffing my hair. "When wearing dress, wear it proud, loud, and stunning." Mom said this whenever she made me a dress, which was all the time.

"Okay Ma." I said, setting the dress back down on the table. Mother sat down with it and continued working.

The front door swung open with a slam, my dad walked in carrying a box from the bakery, Rich and his family behind him.

I rushed up and look to see what he had. Inside the box was the most expense thing the bakery sold. Chocolate cheese cake, with raspberry drizzle poured around it. Three single raspberries laid on the dish. A chocolate rose was placed on the top of the cake, white dots of frosting out lining it. Though I've never tasted, I've heard it is the most ridiculously decadent thing anywhere near here. Yet when I saw it, I got mad, very mad, because we could never afford one, yet alone six. Only one name sprung to mind. Finnick.

He has all the money in the world, he was the only one even remotely close to my family who could pay for that, and he did.

It filled me with anger, the only thing I could really do was snatch the dress, put it on, and wait in my room, the door locked, until reaping. I was selfish. I hate that this morning, one small thing set me off, and made me hide in my room. I wasted hours shunning my family, hours I'll never get back.

When the Reaping did arrive, I wasn't scared. My name was in the bowl once, out of thousands of names mine was in once. It was very unlikely that I would be pulled, so I thought I didn't have to worry.

Well, I was wrong.

My family walked nervously behind me, they had nothing to worry about, but they are always worrying about me. Though I'm 17, my family looks at me as though I am a baby. My mom admits it, she always said, "We still see you as the little girl with a ponytail singing to the sea." She would laugh at this, but we all know she was being serious. My family doesn't see me as a teenager, they see me as a little kid. When I turned 13, I began to push them away, smothered by their obsessive need for me to be younger, and just this morning, I tried to push them even further away from me. I didn't look back when I got in the line for seventeen year olds, I didn't look up during the speeches, I didn't even look at my family as they showed the movie sent from the Capitol.

I was a fool, and even though that was only an hour ago, I'm not afraid to admit it. I was an idiot, you only ever have a short time with your family, and I spent my last minutes locked in my room, and shunning them into the ground. I treated my family like dirt for four years, so I guess I deserved what happened next.

Sylvia Patters, the women from the Capitol who represents District 4, stood in front of everyone. With her pale blue face glowing with a sick excitement, and her dark gold hair glowing almost just as bright, she stuck her fragile hand into the girls bowl, and pulled out a random slip.

I remember thinking, at that very moment, that there was a chance it was me who would be reaped, that it was me who would be tossed in the arena, but I pushed the idea away. _I am fine,_ I told myself.

Sylvia cleared her throat and looked out into the crowd of worry.

"And the girl tribute is… Annie Cresta."


End file.
